


United

by kiss_me_cassie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, F/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Rescue, The Raft Prison (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:06:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Staying together, post-battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	United

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlphaFlyer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaFlyer/gifts).



> For the be_compromised 2016 Promptathon, based upon this suggestion from Alphaflyer: _The Raft prison. Steve and Natasha come for Sam, Wanda, Clint and that strange guy whose name no one remembers (if they ever knew it). Truth be told, though, Natasha is there only for Clint._

Steve strode ahead, past the unconscious bodies lining the Raft, his shield up defensively as they headed out. He and Natasha had been fairly systematic as they made their way through the Raft to the holding cells, but it never hurt to be cautious. 

He glanced behind him, taking a quick head count. Wanda was concentrating on some point ahead of him as she marched forward with Sam at her side. The other guy was just behind Sam, a dazed look on his face. And bringing up the rear was Clint, who kept shooting questioning glances at Natasha.

"Barton."

"Yeah?" he answered, his eyes still on Nat.

"Nat says you should fly?"

He nodded, and as soon as they reached the sleek, black plane on the surface of the Raft, he slid into the pilot's seat, Natasha sinking smoothly into the co-pilot seat beside him.

"Just like old times," she said with a small hint of a smile.

He didn't smile back. He concentrated on getting them out of the Raft's airspace and on their way to Wakanda. Once they were at a safe distance with no sign of pursuit, he turned to her, an odd look on his face.

"Last week, we were on opposite sides, fighting for real. This week you're helping Rogers stage a prison break. Why?" he asked, his voice gruff.

She seemed to shrink into herself briefly, before rallying and facing him squarely, her expression candid and open.

"It was the wrong move, aligning myself with Stark. With _Ross_ ," she corrected. "None of us won, all of us lost."

"And?" he probed, the hurt he was feeling coming to the surface.

"Staying together is still more important than _how_ we stay together. It's especially important that _we_ stay together," she emphasized, reaching out to take his hand.

He glanced down at her small hand a moment, the half-glove of her uniform covering her palm, her infamous bite ringing her wrist. He contemplated all that those hands had done over the years, from murder to reaching out to him in a cold, back alley in Belgrade and more.

"Clint?"

Her soft voice broke into his reverie, and he looked into her fathomless eyes and grasped the hand she offered, linking their fingers together. 

He nodded and allowed a small smile to emerge. "Yeah, we'll stay together."


End file.
